


when you love someone.

by youngkfaith



Category: Day6 (Band)
Genre: Day6 - Freeform, F/M, YoungK - Freeform, kpop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 03:27:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18086606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngkfaith/pseuds/youngkfaith
Summary: after years of writing love songs in his room, younghyun gets unintentional first hand experienceand it's definitelynothing like what he expected it to be.





	1. when you love someone = i

____________________________________________

Younghyun licked his tongue against the two cheeky dents in the inner part of his wet, swelled gums as they started to sear with pain yet again. It was always a habit of his-ever since young, he had been taught by his parents that saliva was the world’s best medicine. With tired footsteps, he gave the small scanner on the fare gate a brief swipe before ghosting through, feeling the weight of the world weigh down on his slumped, fatigued shoulders.

It was a cold morning, the quilt of grey clouds filling the air with beautiful, solemn curves-largely resembling the weather that he had seen in London. Younghyun had always liked stormy weather. It signified a good day to huddle up in his room and write songs, whilst maybe doing some freestyle now and there to move his bones…

Instead of doing all of that which he could only bitterly dream of, he was forced onto this stupid train to go to an even more stupid party.

He closed his eyes briefly, only daring to release just a smidge of his pent up feelings into the air through a pathetic little sigh. Younghyun wasn’t one to wear his feelings on his sleeve, either, unlike the stupid friend, Jae who had invited him to the party. 

“Jeez, Brian, go make some friends.” he had declared in his throaty American accent, “I know you don’t like to socialise, but you write all those cheesy love songs in your room without having any _damn_ experience?” 

Okay, yeah, the last line was sort of a joke, but it also sort of hurt. 

Jae was his only other friend, Dowoon, Sungjin, Wonpil and Terry aside. 

Did Younghyun have a _choice?_

Recalling the incident stirred up an almost laughable, petty anger in a part of Younghyun as he felt his eyebrows arch, wanting to rip apart his leather jacket and neatly striped T-shirt. Socialising was most probably the reason he didn’t have friends. Knowing himself, he’d probably just sit in a corner of the party with snacks and start listening to a mixtape or something. 

As the chugging of the train ran against his ear noisily, louder and prominent with each step, subsequently following up with the rushing in of the big, white vehicle and displaying fleeting blurs of businessmen in deep conversation, Younghyun took a long, obnoxious breath to pace himself.

Maybe this party wouldn’t be so bad.

At the very least, it would have _food._

____________________________________________

The faint sounds of the old piano tapped onto Younghyun’s senses gently, repeating itself and slowly, weaving into a melody of a lost, foreign cry. He could feel his heart begin to smoothen out as ease washed over his back like a dripping waterfall, dilapidating the building of pent up anxiety in him while his back leaned unceremoniously against the cold subway wall.

Music had always been his best companion. As the track from earlier faded into an electro, yet somehow inconsistent, hesitant EDM, Younghyun imagined the cute, petty problems of a teenage girl, stumbling and shy around her crush. From there on, one big story proceeded to unfold and play in front of his eyes, as he started losing consciousness in the real world and dropping deep into the embrace of the imaginary yet tangible.

While the track escalated to a more lively rhythm then onwards, Younghyun couldn’t help but think-why were people so hard to understand? 

The scores scattered across his piano stand, the unfinished tracks still stored away safely on his laptop, the melody still hovering over his head steadily and soothingly…they were there for him, when no one else ever would be. 

As soon as the story stacking up like building blocks in his head was about to reach its climax, the half built tragedy was instantly destroyed by the rude cutting in of xylophone sounds. 

Younghyun’s eyes shot open a little too vigorously as he answered the phone with another kind of petty fury in his heart. Before he knew it, the beautiful scene of cherry blossom trees swaying softly under the two characters had vanished without a trace, instead bringing back the cold winter air and the cacophony of the chatty adults on the train, complaining about how spoilt the younger generation was.

He could feel his eyes rise to his head as he released another helpless, annoyed sigh from his peeling lips.

The stupid iPhone ringtone was perhaps, the only kind of music he would ever loathe.

“Hello?” he grunted, trying to mask as much of his dissatisfaction as possible as he clutched his hand to his chin.

“Yoooooo, Brian, my man, what’s taking so long?” a hearty scream pierced Younghyun’s poor, dying eardrums amidst his earlier, more gentle monotone, and if it wasn’t for the already irritant stares from the grown ups, he definitely would have shouted back.

“Hmm, I don’t know man, you being annoying and embarrassing me in public?” he hissed, settling for a curt retort as his mouth got as close to the mic as he could.

“Oh come on, you know I’m your best friend.” Younghyun could already visualise the pout forming onto Jae’s lips as his tone dipped at the end slightly, and inside, he snickered instinctively-he knew that Jae was holding back his sarcastic replies for the sole reason of getting him to come to the party. 

“Nah, you’re not my best friend, you’re a loser.” he smirked, thoroughly basking in the triumph of having the upper hand over someone who’d always win at sass fights.

Younghyun couldn’t help but laugh as Jae proceeded to say, “I’m done with being nice to you, bigger loser. I heard the announcer lady, you’re here already. See you in 5 minutes, or square up.” Spontaneously, the phone hung up, without bothering to let his last sentence linger slowly in the air-it was just Jae’s kind of humour, quick and satirical, which all his friends would use to either tease each other or fire it back at him. 

At the coincidental thought of his friends, Younghyun felt his lips lift slowly as the phone interface vanished to reveal his lockscreen of a selfie his friends had took with him, during that once when he had climbed on top of the fence, fell and smashed his head into the ground while he was drunk. 

He loved his friends a lot.

At that thought, a strange hollowness followed up into his heart, and he couldn’t help but sigh again as he dragged his muddy shoes out of the flooring of the subway, into the scary unknown of the public.

The party was a place for social butterflies.

There was no way that anyone else at that place could love someone as uninteresting and unsociable as him.

While he started weaving his way through the crowd waiting to swallow him up, inwardly emotionless and stale without the support of music nor friends-the track that had followed up from his call, was painfully the voice of his own, fighting against the voice in his heart with a stinging irony.

It was a self composed song, _I Like You,_ and right now, Younghyun didn’t like himself much.


	2. I ; scene two

Coincidentally 2 years ago from the depressing journey to the party, Younghyun had never felt more lonely in his entire life.

As the school bell rang peskily from a distance, with its shrill, silvery soprano, his dull, tear speckled eyes could only follow the footsteps of those who were already starting to talk in raised voices, those who actually had friends to eat with them during recess.

The cacophony of noises that had emerged from the earlier silence in the classroom was needlessly to say, irritating. It was scarily ironic how Younghyun's loneliness seemed to be amplified amidst the chatter, in spite of the amount of people that made up this area.

Time passed by Younghyun's watching eyes cruelly, and bullets of jealousy seemed to thrust through his heart with every footstep that got further away from him. In a matter of seconds, everyone had already torn through the exit of the class and dispersed out into the canteen, the field; all the places that was no short of foreign to him.

He was the only one new here. He was the only one that didn't have friends in the class.

He didn't want it that way.

He longed to hook himself to the ends of conversations with witty jokes, just as the other kids did, and fill the hollow of his bottomless heart with human presence. He longed to have a friend.

 _A friend,_ not _friends_. He wasn't asking for much.

Amidst the stillness that hung awkwardly in the classroom, Younghyun paced aimlessly around the area; the only thing remotely moving at all being himself, and the golden particles that floated through the window from the sun, descending gingerly on the sides of people's desks like fireflies in the day. He moved around a little, dragging the soles of his shoes against the floor which made a funny rustling sound, but also made him feel a little less lonely.

He sighed.

Years ago, he was feeling homesick in Toronto, and now that he was back 'home', he'd do anything just to wish himself back to the other side of the world.

This place no longer felt like 'home' anymore; in fact, nowhere did.

Younghyun watched the golden particles litter the plastic cover of his textbook, with a slight hint of sorrow in their seemingly gentle movements-and just then, he saw himself in those particles.

Floating around aimlessly, just trying to find somewhere that felt like home.

Just then, as his imagination flew free from his body, a voice resembling the likes of the school bell cut short his trip down memory lane.

"Student Kang Younghyun! You are not allowed to be in the classroom block during recess hours! Come out now!" the teacher-on-patrol yelled irritatingly, her old, faltering voice cracking between every syllable. Slightly shocked, Younghyun whirled around on his heel to face his dear, dear history teacher; only to find that her shadow had vanished in the blink of an eye.

With the newfound knowledge that there was no one else to watch over him, he rolled his eyes as he made his way to his desk, feeling an unusually petulant annoyance spark in him when the scenario replayed itself in his head. _Of course it's so easy for you to call me out, stupid teacher,_ he thought bitterly, _you've never had the classroom as your only companion before._

As he continued to think up a flurry of very undesirable curses that he'd die to hurl at the teacher, Younghyun felt a hard, slightly rough texture graze against the tip of his shoes.

It was his guitar, leaning against the leg of his table and looking at him expectantly.

He hesitated for a bit before going along with his heart to pick it back up again, and for the first time in this school, he smiled softly.

"Guess it's only you and me then."

___________________________________

It was a windy day. Younghyun had made himself comfortable, sitting on a bench adjacent to the school garden, away from the hubbub and cacophony of the canteen. He was admiring the autumn trees swaying in the distance, with their welcoming coats of orange and golden yellow; occasional reds in their gradient if he was lucky enough to see them.

As bits of leaves emerged from the clutch of the branches, cascading obediently under the guidance of the wind and joining the stack piled up below the bark of the tree, a certain scale he had learnt in music class secretly blended in with the warm hues-E major.

Younghyun felt a funny mix of warmth and excitement spread throughout his veins as he unzipped the cover of the guitar excitedly, and brought it into the crevice of his embrace; he had always loved how the curves of the instrument moulded perfectly into his body, bringing him the feeling of being touched, the feeling of being loved.

He dared himself to slot his fingers in between the strings of the guitar, and gave it a loose, thoughtless strum in E major-letting the resonance of the melody echo warmly, which was the utmost beauty of acoustic guitars.

The strings were so rough with their occasional malice, but felt so much like home.

The only sense of home he had felt...

Since...

Coming back to Seoul...

Younghyun's thoughts unfurled in sync with the slow movements of his fingers, as he languidly dragged his hands across the strings again once more, having a newfound desire to re-explore the instrument.

" _Oh, sh-Ah, I'm not supposed to swear! Heck_!"

At the familiar ringing of the whimsical American accent he hadn't heard much-not since coming back home, at least-Younghyun could barely stifle a snort as he turned his head, trying his best to not show any traces of amusement on his face.

He caught sight of a walking figure and scanned their side profile briefly, realising how all his features endearingly weaved themselves into existence. They consisted of a grey cardigan blotted with folds, golden rimmed glasses, and hair resembling curled pieces of flavoured tteokbokki that barely fitted into the crevice of his ear.

They were the lightest shade of soft strawberry pink, unequivocally resembling his scent as a strong, but sweet whiff of strawberries hit a disoriented Younghyun.

The guy had approached him, and as Younghyun felt the ends of his hair bristle like a winter tree, he redirected his eyes to the numerous folds in the guy's hood, wanting nothing more but to plunge into one of them and disappear from any form of human contact.

Younghyun looked down to avoid his gaze.

The oversized grey cardigan was touching his arms.

"I'm in your class, right?" the guy talked in unusually decent Korean, getting Younghyun to look back up again as his small, excited eyes raised like ridges out of the sea. There was a flicker of dullness in his shine as his speech faltered slightly, like he wanted to say something but decided against it. "Sorry for suddenly approaching you, b-but I don't think I have anyone with the same interests as I do, and well, I'm not the _best_ at socialising, and that guitar looks pretty cool. That's all."

Younghyun allowed himself a small giggle, in hindsight better than the stifled snort from earlier, and after a few perplexed glances the guy caught onto Younghyun's smile, realising how awkwardly he had halted the conversation.

"Sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet." he chuckled, somehow discernible with the quieter voice he had taken to, "I'm Park Jaehyung, and I'm a transfer student here." He had unintentionally lowered his voice at _transfer student_ , and Younghyun related.

"Kang Younghyun." he started to break into a half-smile, meeting Jaehyung's gaze with a softened, understanding look. He too, understood the struggles of fitting in here like a broken puzzle piece, possibly more than anyone else. "I'm a _transfer student_  too," he said with gusto, "-maybe we'll get along well."

With the newfound meaning of _transfer student_ , the other boy returned Younghyun's grin happily, as if he had made not just words but everything better with the tap of his wand.

"So, _transfer student_ ," Jaehyung remarked, an evident smirk on his face as he thoroughly relished in the use of the word, and in the process drawing out a few laughs from Younghyun, "What sort of music do you like?"

"Honestly, anything. I normally listen to rock because I'm an emotional lit kid these days, but I guess British pop and what not is cool too. I got so many good songs in my playlist, you don't even know..." Younghyun rambled on quickly about the thing he had loved the most as a kid, and the thing that had brought him to where he was today. "How about you?" he asked subsequently, eager to know what the other listened to too, and Jaehyung laughed at the excitement that flickered in his eyes; just the simple mention of music could really work wonders.

"Same, but these days I listen to...quite a bit of R&B and acoustic folk." he replied, the gentle raise of his eyebrows establishing a faint hint of happiness. Then, out of nowhere and plain curiosity, he flicked a finger at the guitar in Younghyun's hands. "Can you play that?"

Younghyun nodded before shrugging again; he wasn't very confident in his skills, but he considered himself passable. "Yeah, kinda, I guess. I'm not that great, but I love doing this." He didn't even try to restrain a smile as his eyes dipped back down to the guitar, looking at it with a simple adoration.

It seemed to be infectious, as it had caught onto Jaehyung; who was, in turn, admiring the other's passion, and feeling exactly the same way about music as he did. With a more evident excitement, he exclaimed, "Oh, that's so cool! I play the guitar too! What's, um, a song you've liked to play recently?"

Younghyun's eyebrows knitted in confusion. He twirled his index over the surface of his chin, not knowing exactly how to answer; recently, he had been singing lots of songs to fill the bottomless in his heart, but he couldn't really pinpoint a favourite. Eventually, for the sole purpose of giving Jaehyung an answer, he just decided to pick one of his all time favourites that he had ceased to hum a single note from-not ever since he left Toronto.

He didn't really like talking about that song much. It was his very feelings of loss, or some would say, outright petulance before leaving his friends there.

"I like The Man Who Can't Be Moved." Younghyun answered blatantly, wary for the slight voice crack in the last word-he wanted to remain his composure in front of Jaehyung, at least just for their first meeting. He tilted his head down, not daring to make eye contact with the other person as he tentatively clipped his hands to the fretboard; but just then, he had second thoughts about it.

_Did I come off rude? Do I look nervous? Oh crap, he's going to think I'm weird-_

"Can I hear it?"

Younghyun froze, pupils positioning in the exact core of his eyes.

"W-What?"

"Um, can I hear it? T-That is, if-um, if it's okay..." Jaehyung repeated the question again, eyes drifting to Younghyun's; seeing the horror in his gaze had triggered a subtle tentativeness in his voice. Nevertheless, Younghyun nodded vigorously in reply, whilst racking his brains for some good excuse to justify his actions.

"Of course you can." he responded shyly, diffident smile baring the bunny teeth hiding in his mouth, "It's just-it's just-" Younghyun paused for a while, trying to gather his thoughts as he skimmed a finger through the strands in his hair, "This song means a lot to me."

He looked up at Jaehyung meekly, who got the message, and smiled back understandingly with all his heart and spirit. Holding the hems of his grey cardigan to the abrupt crinkle in his eyes, he said with confidence, "I bet you'll be able to sing this song well."

Younghyun shrugged, lips bridging into a small bump. "Hopefully it's good."

Ignoring the facade that he had looked after faithfully for most of the conversation, his eyes turned to his beloved guitar once again as he fumbled through the strings for a key, a key that he had once remembered from the top of his head.

But soon enough, as he found that something, the voice that escaped from his lips was one filled with the cracks and potholes of youth; a youth of falling from fences and music well spent in Toronto, and instantly, his fingers found their home again.

_Going back to the corner, where I first saw you_

_Gonna camp in my sleeping bag, I'm not gonna move_

_Got some words on cardboard, got your picture in my hand_

_Saying, "If you see this girl, can you tell her where I am?"_

_Some try to hand me money, they don't understand_

_I'm not broke, I'm just a broken-hearted man_

_I know it makes no sense, but what else can I do_

_How can I move on when I'm still in love with you_

_Cause if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me_

_And your heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be_

_Thinkin' maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet_

_And you'll see me waiting for you on our corner of the street_

_So I'm not moving, I'm not moving_

Younghyun, carried gingerly by the tether of his euphoria, let it disappear gradually as he held the last note, just for a little longer. The lyrics had brought back some beautiful memories, that he really didn't wish to dampen with the selfishness that human emotions would always bring; they had hit a little too close to home for comfort.

On the contrary, Jaehyung had an eager, but somehow composed smile lingering on his face; like he had something beneath that enthusiasm but refused to show it. "You're really good at singing," he awed quietly, small giggles dovetailed to his speech and establishing a subtle amazement, "-and really, _really_ good at English."

Upon hearing the last line, Younghyun couldn't help but laugh in good humour, slightly amused by the surprise that contorted his soft, demure features. "I lived in Toronto for 4 years. I'm not that great at English, but I'd consider myself fluent."

Jaehyung's mouth fell open in shock. _"Wait, you can speak English? The way you say Toronto is very...accentuated."_

 _"Yeah man! You have a pretty evident American accent, I can tell you do too."_ Complying to Jaehyung's question, Younghyun gave him a rightfully English answer, and his smile only got even wider when Jaehyung's eyes lit up like the Christmas trees back in his apartment overseas.

 _"Ooh, ooh, wait, hold up, my dude! I literally don't know ANYONE who can speak fluent English. We're literally, like friends now, oh my gosh."_ Jaehyung started to rave, lips puckered in excitement as he spoke his first language with less stiffness than he did in Korean, _"My Korean compared to the locals here is absolutely terrible. Like okay, I'm fluent and all, but I just can't find the words to say to properly express myself, namsayin? Ugh, it's soooo difficult to just get one sentence across to the teachers, and it's so agonising as well whenever they lecture me about it, jeez."_ Realising how his speech had been no more than an indiscernible string of gibberish, Jaehyung paused before tittering gently to break the silence, unequivocally shy about his habit of rambling off like a bullet train. "S-Sorry, I got too excited." he said again, back to the quiet boy that the formalities of the Korean language forced onto him.

Younghyun waved a hand dismissively. _"It's fine. We can speak in English if you're more comfortable with it."_  he quipped. " _Plus, I think I prefer seeing you like this,"_  he said with the small hint of a knowing smirk, and instantly Jaehyung's features relaxed, figure further unfurling into the bench.

 _"Thanks man. Never heard anything more relieving ever since coming here."_ he remarked, letting loose a few awkward laughs before adding hesitantly, _"By the way, I think you could just call me Jae. It's something that I'm more used to, and it sounds less weird in English."_

 _"Sounds cool. Jae Park, Jae Park. Damn, my homie, whatcha doin with all your swag?"_ Younghyun called in the most terribly exaggerated accent that resembled Jae's way of talking, and both of them doubled over even harder than before. However, Younghyun had done so in slight embarrassment-why did he think it was okay to do something so cringeworthy?

However, as he moulded his face into his palms, he peered through the crevices between his fingers and decided Jae's happiness was worth it.

The freedom in his eyes, the way that his voice flowed in English like the rapids of a river; it evidently showed that he felt at home speaking with such informality, with such slack in his voice. It was as if the sleeves in his cardigan that hung loose had unfolded its 'wings' and flew from a cage that had once threatened to, and did imprison him.

And, for the second time in foreign ground, Younghyun felt a fleeting upturning of his lips, something that he could barely press down. _"Best friends?"_ he had asked, but had said it more like a declaration as he jabbed his pinky into Jae's face maliciously; startling the older boy whilst painting creases in his eyes. Still, being too happy over his new friend, Jae took it in good nature as he unhesitantly twined his pinky around Younghyun's.

 _"For sure, my brother from another mother."_  he declared with conviction, just as the recess bell struck to signify the start of something new. _"Let's get it."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: whenever jae and younghyun talk, i will not italicise it anymore unless its in korean. basically italics will be implemented in the language used less often in the chapter?? so eg. the chapter mainly features yk talking in korean to sungjin, then if jae suddenly talks i will have to italicise it for their english convo lol. but if theres a scene in the chapter thats only showing jae and yk i will not italicise it, assuming that u alrdy kno that theyre speaking in eng aight:)
> 
> sorry for being so inactive TTTTTT

**Author's Note:**

> i love him sm ;;; to be honest I doubt thats who he is irl bcos he’s such an open and friendly person and he’s also a very annoying and interesting person HAHAHA for the insecure part I wouldn’t know but dang,,,he definitely isn’t unsociable LOL he’s so annoying ngl >:( stan talent stan day6 yalls !!! side note young k really is a very talented and hardworking person, I’m so proud of how far he has gone !!!!


End file.
